


To feel your warmth

by SaoryEmanoelle



Series: VanVen Week 2020 [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, Other, Physical Abuse, Pre-BBS, Pre-Canon, Trauma, VanVen Day, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoryEmanoelle/pseuds/SaoryEmanoelle
Summary: To grow stronger. That was the only purpose Vanitas had, even though he didn't know what for. It was hard to keep moving forward when everything around him hurt, when everything seemed to be against him.Thankfully, at least his Light was there for him.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: VanVen Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067660
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	To feel your warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Henlo!! Here's my entry for VanVen Day and also VanVen Week Day 1 :D If you haven't heard about it, check @VanVenWeek on Twitter =v=
> 
> The prompt I chose was 'Warmth'. I hope you like it!!

“Did you see that?”

The eight-year-old pointed at the sky through the bars of his window. There were no stars in sight now, but there was one a second ago, he could swear!

“It came crashing! Like, it was… This big! And this fast too!”

He held his arms open. The star definitely wasn’t as big as he was saying it was, but it certainly had looked like it to him! He looked back at his friend, at the blond boy who sat on the bed with a blank expression, staring only ahead, not seeing anything.

“It was really cool!” Vanitas exclaimed, but his voice was already dying off. His smile faded and he looked away from Ventus, back to the sky.

He leaned on the wall and huffed. If at least their room was enjoyable maybe he wouldn’t feel so… Abandoned. But there was nothing to do there other than sleep and look out the window. He knew pretty much nothing about the castle they lived in, only that their Master forbade them from going outside unless he was with them and that only happened when they went out for training.

Vanitas grumbled and made shapeless forms on the wall with his fingers. If only Ventus would answer him…

He looked back again at the boy who was part of him. ‘His other half’, the Master said. Vanitas knew that, he’d felt that the moment he’d been born. When he had been pulled away, torn from his original self and turned into… Whatever he was now.

He still couldn’t tell whose face he was wearing, only that it wasn’t his. His was Ventus’, but Ventus was standing right there!

_ Who am I _ , he asked himself every day, every night. Every time he had a moment to stop and breathe.  _ Why am I here _ , the child wondered, tried to understand. But it was all in vain. The Master wouldn’t tell him, Ventus  _ couldn’t  _ tell him and he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to know.

He just wanted to feel it again. That warmth he used to feel in his heart.

“I think it was a meteor.” He said, loud enough for Ventus to hear. “Maybe it crashed somewhere close by. Maybe in the desert. Or maybe somewhere else- Oh! Maybe in the Graveyard! We could go check tomorrow! See if we can find it!”

Ventus blinked a few times but didn’t look at him. He just looked forward, just forward. Always looking, never seeing.

Vanitas sighed, angry, but stood in his place. It wouldn’t help to be angry, he knew. He could feel it, everything his other half felt. And what he felt right now was...

Nothing. There was nothing.

_ Why am I here _ , he thought again.

“... Maybe you’ll see it next time.” Vanitas muttered and walked away from the window and to the bed where Ventus was. He sat next to him and just stared at the blond, stared at the person that he once was. “When you wake up. Maybe then you’ll talk to me. Maybe we can chat.”

Ventus didn’t react. Vanitas closed his eyes.

“... Maybe then I’ll finally have you back.”

* * *

“Stand up.”

Vanitas leaned on his elbow, gasped. Breathed in, breathed out. Tried again.

“I said-” Xehanort didn’t wait. He struck, tore open yet another part of the child’s body. Vanitas screamed and fell again, hit his face on the ground. “Stand. Up.”

“I am… Trying!” The little boy retorted and pushed himself up, lost his balance but managed to stand. 

He held his hand open before him again, let Void Gear be summoned, but could barely hold it like before. His arms were heavy and he could feel blood trailing down from the new wound on his back.

“What are you waiting for?” Xehanort questioned, one hand behind his back, the other holding No Name with a dark, unknown aura. “Attack me.”

Vanitas held his breath. He prepared himself and jumped, but before he could even hit the man he was disarmed and sent flying backward, feeling the little rocks on the ground cut his skin even more, his lungs failing him for a moment.

“Too slow.” Xehanort lamented and started walking toward the boy. Vanitas coughed and cleaned the dust off his face. “Pathetic.”

The child turned his head to look and panicked, tried to move faster, to stand up and reach for his Keyblade, but Xehanort was getting closer, he was getting closer and closer and closer-

“Master-”

Vanitas choked with saliva as he was stepped on, No Name now hovering above his neck. He panted, cried, all the while Xehanort kept pressing his feet against his stomach.

“M… Mast-”

“Summon your Keyblade.”

He tried to catch his breath, to push Xehanort away.

“M… aster, it hurts-”

“I said-” He stepped on his stomach again, harder. Deeper. Vanitas choked again and his vision went white for a moment, breathing getting harder with each second. “Summon your Keyblade!”

“M… Master...”

Void Gear returned to his hand. Xehanort waited, gave him time to at least try to do something, but Vanitas couldn’t hit him that way. He tried to swing it but the weapon fell from his hand and he let out a whimper, a scared, terrified, whimper.

“P-please, it hurts…!”

“It will hurt worse-” Xehanort threatened. “-if you don’t take this training seriously.”

He grabbed the boy by his arm and pulled him up, screamed at him. Vanitas was still crying but forced himself to stand, he had to.

“The world out there won’t be merciful on you, boy.” 

“I know!” Vanitas retorted again, voice covered with anger and frustration. He swallowed dry, the floor spinning under his feet.

“No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be this weak! You would not be this useless!”

“I am not… Useless!”

”Then prove you’re not!”

Vanitas gritted his teeth and tightened his fists. He got Void Gear from the ground and ran to the man, as fast as he could, a wave of anger and frustration moving him, making his every step count, making him keep himself focused!

But that meant nothing to Xehanort. Vanitas was no threat to him.

He defended himself with No Name and pushed the boy backward, who stumbled but didn’t fall until he was hit on the face and a cracking sound went up to his skull.

“You’re worthless.” Xehanort groaned, but Vanitas wasn’t listening. He was rolling on the ground with both hands covering his face, crying and screaming with the pain of the crack he now had on his jaw, cowering in fear of being struck again.

The man who was his Master sneered and put No Name away. He shook his head and didn’t wait for the boy to get up before turning his back to him and walking away.

“And here I thought you would be better than that broken piece of yours. Pathetic.”

When Vanitas finally managed to stop squirming he raised his head to look, to make sure he was alone. He wasn’t, of course he wasn’t. Dozens and dozens of Unversed were gathering around him, checking on him. Archravens were flying in circles in the sky, but they didn’t look like guardians and instead like vultures, waiting for their prey to be dead so they could feed on it.

A purple Flood touched its master’s face with its unnatural hand. Vanitas pushed it away and stood up, fell down, then got up again.

“Leave me alone...” He whispered for he didn’t have enough strength to say it out loud.

Ventus looked up when Vanitas came back to their room. He didn’t look worried or happy. He never had any expression on his face other than… Nothing. As if his soul had been taken away from his body - Which was kind of expected, considering his heart had been literally torn in half.

“Hi, Ven.”

Vanitas stumbled forward, whimpering. but managed to lean on the wall to keep his balance.

“... The Master... ” He sniffled. “Was… Really harsh today.”

He looked at the blond, hoping he’d at least be looking back, but Ventus hadn’t moved. He was still sitting in the same position as before, his head down, his eyes lost. Vanitas sniffled again and walked to him, sat on the bed.

“Master… Master said I’m useless. That I’m… Pathetic.”

Vanitas held one of Ventus’ hands.

“But I’m trying. I’m trying real hard, Ven! I swear!”

The little boy leaned forward, tears blinding his vision, and rested his head on the blond’s shoulder.

“But it hurts, Ven... ! It hurts so, so much… Why…?”

Why did Ventus get to sit there and recover while he had to go through so much torment every day? Why couldn’t he be given time too? Why did he have to be the punching bag over and over?

“Why won’t you answer me?” He asked out loud and grabbed Ventus by his arms. He held him with all the strength he had left, digging his nails on the boy's skin. “Why won’t you talk?! I need you to talk!”

Slowly, Ventus looked up at him but there was nothing behind his eyes. Vanitas started to shake him, growing more and more desperate by the minute, days of pain and loneliness catching up to him.

“Say something!  _ Anything _ !”

“... Hurts.”

Vanitas stopped, his eyes wide, still holding on to the blond. He stared straight at him, didn’t dare so much to breathe as he waited.

“It... Hurts... ”

A single tear fell down Ventus’ eye and watched it run down his face until his eyes fell on Ventus’ arm. On his own hands which held Ventus’ arms, and his nails which were literally cutting through the blond’s skin.

He pulled his hands back, shaking, and stared down at his hands with a shocked, scared gasp. There wasn’t much blood, but there should be  _ none _ . Vanitas looked at Ventus again, at his now wounded arms and his empty eyes which, despite showing no emotion, seemed to expect something out of him.

Ventus couldn’t speak, but suddenly Vanitas could feel him. His feelings and thoughts, stuck in his weakened body. His emotions.

Fear.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He whispered and stood up. “I’m sorry, Ven! I… I’m sorry!”

What else could he say? What else could he do but apologize? He knew it wasn’t fair to him, knew that he was being used, but that wasn’t Ventus’ fault and he knew that too. Ventus might not be able to speak nor to do as he pleased, but Vanitas could feel him. Could feel that he too was trying. Trying to act, to speak. Trying to survive!

Vanitas felt the blond relax a little. For a moment he thought he’d seen some kind of shine to his eyes, but it was just his own mind trying to give him some kind of hope. Vanitas swallowed and suddenly realized he was very thirsty. Suddenly realized Ventus must be thirsty too.

He looked out of the window. It was getting dark.

“... I’m sorry I hurt you. I… Didn’t mean to.”

Vanitas wasn’t quite sure of what to expect but he wasn’t prepared to see Ventus stretch his arms out toward him, trying to hold him. The little boy started crying again and approached his only companion, only friend. Ventus circled his arms around him, not saying anything because he couldn’t but Vanitas could feel him.

There, alone in the bedroom that was their prison, alone in the world they had forcefully been put in, Vanitas, in Ventus’ embrace, felt safe.

* * *

“Faster!”

Vanitas jumped to the side, dodged another attack but was hit by his Master’s magic. He stood up, however, and turned around holding Void Gear above his head, breathing in and out as calm as he could through so much adrenaline.

“I said faster!” Xehanort cast Dark Firaga again, three at once, and Vanitas jumped backward, dodging them and running toward his Master to attack him. 

Xehanort smiled, a smile that sent cold shivers down the child’s spine and distracted him enough to be hit directly on his face by No Name’s sharp blade.

“What is stopping you?” Xehanort asked, walking toward the boy who was getting back on his feet. ”What is keeping you from awakening your true power?”

Vanitas turned around, tried to strike his Master while he spoke, but Xehanort was too fast for him. He blocked the boy’s attack and disarmed him, held no Name against his neck.

“You shouldn’t even  _ need  _ to awaken it. It is you.  _ You  _ are darkness.”

Xehanort expected Vanitas to try and run again or maybe teleport away, but he didn’t. Something had caught his attention and he stared at his master in a mix of shock but also confusion. 

“Maybe you are still too young...” The man continued, his expression blank but his focus entirely on the boy’s reaction. “Too fragile, perhaps? Maybe you forgot what you really are… Lost in the process.”

“W… What do you mean?”

“Maybe you are not yet ready for your fate. I cannot awake that power alone.”

“What are you talking about?!”

Xehanort raised his Keyblade up and Vanitas closed his eyes tight, expecting another attack, but what he got was a flash from No Name disappearing into thin air. He looked up and noticed a smirk on his Master’s lips.

“I am talking, of course, about what you truly are. It’s been a while, Vanitas, since you came into existence. Have you never questioned yourself?”

Vanitas pursed his lips. Of course he did. He always did, from the moment he was born, from the moment his face changed to someone else’s. Why am I here, why have I been pulled away from my real heart? Questions that came and went but that he couldn’t focus on, not when he was being trained every day with little to no rest.

Until now. 

“... Why have you created me?”

“That is not the question you should be asking.” Xehanort retorted and turned his back to the boy, intently looked away. “I have my own reasons to create you. Or maybe… All I did was to wake you up from your slumber.”

Vanitas frowned, trying to make sense of why this was suddenly an important topic. What even was this topic, what did his Master mean? 

Xehanort simply laughed and walked away.

“Tomorrow we start before the sun rises.”

And with these last words, completely faded into darkness.

Vanitas stayed on the same spot for a long time, alone, thinking to himself. He felt weird, odd after Xehanort’s question. When he went back to his and Ventus’ bedroom, he was surprised to find the blond standing instead of laying on the bed. He gasped, startled, and only then noticed Ventus was next to the window and doing exactly what he did himself every night: Looking at the sky.

“... Hi, Ven.”

Ventus tilted his head a bit, not looking at him. Vanitas sighed and walked up to him, joined him next to the window.

“... Pretty, isn’t it? Although… A bit empty.”

He instinctively leaned against the blond, resting against him. He supposed it was because Ventus’ light called to him, but it always made him feel better when they were close. He imagined how it would feel when Ventus recovered.

“No stars. Sometimes I see one… Here and there… But-”

“Meteor.”

He stared at Ventus with wide eyes, wondering if he was hearing things. As if only to prove him wrong, Ventus looked back at him, actually  _ looked _ at him, then pointed out the window.

“A meteor.”

Vanitas looked back at the sky, but there was nothing other than the dark. It took him a few seconds to understand.

“Oh! Yeah, I saw a meteor that day! It was so big and came down so fast!” Vanitas started, energy coming out of nowhere, a sudden wave of happiness filling his heart. “You should have seen it, it was so cool!”

Ventus listened to him talk with a shy, little smile on his lips. Vanitas hadn’t seen him smile ever since they were torn apart. Had never seen any other expression on his face other than that of sorrow or emptiness. But Ven was smiling now; weak, sure, but he was smiling! 

Still, in the back of Vanitas’ mind, there was a voice reminding him of his conversation with Xehanort. He looked down then back at Ventus. 

“Hey, Ven… D… Do you know who I am?”

Ventus blinked a few times, looking at him. Vanitas tried again.

“The Master said… I’m your Darkness. That makes you my Light. I’m sure you know that by now...” He glanced at the blond then at the floor again, not wanting to be proven wrong. “But… He also said I’m… Something else. That I have some kind of power to awake. But I don’t understand what he means.”

Ventus tilted his head again and blinked a few more times. Was he trying to say something? Was he even understanding what was being said to him?

“He… Told me I need to grow stronger. But I still don’t know why. I don’t even know why I’m not you anymore, why-”

He stopped. Ventus was leaning closer to him and gave him a little smile before touching his chest and feeling his heart beating.

“... Pretty.”

Vanitas opened his mouth to speak but didn’t. He looked down at Ventus’ hand and put his own over it, held it close. His heart, pretty? He’d just said Xehanort had told him he was nothing but Darkness! Maybe...

“... Maybe being Darkness isn’t a bad thing?” He asked, more to himself, but that only made Ventus smile more and speak again.

“Pretty.”

Vanitas smiled too. Although Ventus wasn’t in his best condition, he definitely could tell what was in his mind. His voice alone helped Vanitas relax a bit and so he just nodded and let go. Maybe, as Ven got better, he’d know the answer to his Master’s question.

For now, he thought, he could just wait.

“Come on. I need to get up early tomorrow. We better sleep.

Ventus followed him to bed and lay down, turning on his side to look at his companion. Their bed wasn’t too comfortable, and their room itself wasn’t the best they could have, but for the first time since he’d been born Vanitas felt alright laying there. Maybe Ventus’ voice had awakened something in him.

He hesitated but ended up snuggling against his Light, trying to feel something. And as soon as Ventus put his arms around him, he felt something wonderful.

“Thanks, Ven.”

He felt warm.

* * *

As days went by, the more Ventus spoke. At first, he only repeated what Vanitas said and most of the time it felt as if he was relearning how to speak, but Vanitas didn’t care. After all, since Ventus’ health started to improve, he’d started to feel better himself. The more Ventus spoke, the more alive Vanitas felt. The more Ventus held him the stronger he felt.

But the better Ventus got, the harsher Vanitas’ training became. It wasn’t long before he was utterly exhausted.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He told Ventus one night while they snuggled. “I don’t know why I’m doing this. Why  _ he’s  _ doing this. He tells me I need to be stronger but… For what?”

Ventus didn’t know why either. All he knew was that Vanitas was hurting and that he wanted that hurt to stop. He hugged him tighter and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Ven.”

“... Okay.”

_ Stand up _ .

Xehanort tossed his Keyblade aside and grabbed the boy by his hair.

“I told you to stand up! Stop crying!”

“I’m sorry, Master-!”

“Apologies are of no value to me!” He screamed and let go of the child only to kick him with force. “How do you expect to survive like this? To have power?!”

“I don’t want to have power-!”

Xehanort kicked him again and Vanitas coughed, small fingers clinging to the sand under him.

“Don’t you understand that is the sole purpose of your existence? It is why you survived this long, why you waited so many years to rise again!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You should! I need Darkness to be truly unleashed, not the poor excuse you are.”

Vanitas coughed again and put his hands on his head, trying to hide, to cover himself from the insults. Daily insults, never-ending insults that made him dislike himself. That made him hate himself _. _ Why couldn’t he be as good as his Master expected him to be? Why couldn’t he fight well if that was his purpose?

“Now… Stand up!”

_ I’m sorry _ .

“It’s fine.” Vanitas answered Ventus again, less patient than before.

Was that all Ventus knew how to say? That he was sorry? All he did was to stay there in their room and look out the window while being fed and cared for. He never got to train, never received any kind of advice from Xehanort. All he received was patience. It wasn’t fair.

“Are you okay?” Ventus asked, reaching out to him with his hand, but Vanitas pulled it away.

“I’m fine.”

Of course he wasn’t okay. Weren’t the countless cuts on his skin and armor enough of an answer? Or the fact that he now had to wear a freaking jaw mask because his jaw had been broken by the man who was looking after him?

“... I’m here.” Ventus whispered and looked down, holding his hands together. Vanitas looked away from him, staring at nowhere in particular, just tapping his fingers on his knee.

“I know.” He said, guilt building up in the pit of his stomach. “I… Thank you, Ven.”

Ventus stretched his arms toward him, offering a hug. He always did that when Vanitas felt troubled, which meant every single day. But this time, Vanitas didn’t give in.

He stared at his Light and shook his head.

“I’m going outside. I need air.” 

_ Stand up _ .

Days went by, so many that Vanitas lost count of them. Xehanort was implacable; never allowed him rest, never allowed him to recover. He only hit him, over and over again, and always left the Graveyard after Vanitas either passed out on the ground or felt too weak to move.

Day in, day out. Vanitas was tired.

“Why doesn’t Ven train too?” He asked one day, pointing at the castle where his other half was.

“He’s not able to. He needs to recover first.”

“I need to recover too! Why am I the only one who has to suffer like this?”

Xehanort didn’t answer. Vanitas attacked him again, failed. As he failed every day, every single time. Day in, day out.

There was only so much he could take.

It had been a specifically hard day. Vanitas could barely see what was in front of him, his vision covered with tears, blood, and just because of his overall exhaustion. He fell on his way, two or three times before he finally reached the door to their room.

He opened it and fell to the ground, not wanting to move, not wanting to do anything except… To disappear, perhaps. To let go, let himself be destroyed. If it was going to stop the pain, he’d take it.

“Vani? Vani!!”

Ventus’ voice was right above him but it sounded far away. Vanitas felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness and for a moment it felt nice, it felt  _ great _ . To slip into oblivion, to end it all. To not feel anything.

Ventus shook him, crying in despair of seeing his only friend hurt like this.

“Vani!!”

For better or for worse, Ventus’ fear seemed to ignite something within Vanitas. He could feel it all now, the cold floor where he lay, the many cuts on his body that had just been open, reopened. The growing sadness in what was left of his heart, the growing anger.

Ventus called his name again, relieved, and helped him get up. Vanitas leaned on him, taking deep breaths to try and deal with the pain. Ventus smiled at him and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him by whispering a melody from decades ago, one Vanitas did not recognize.

The raven-haired child looked up at the other boy. Ventus seemed to think he was doing something good. Seemed to think he was doing something useful by just… Standing there and trying to comfort him. 

How could he be so stupid? How could he be so…

“... Why are you smiling?” 

Vanitas’s voice was cold and hurtful, but Ventus didn’t seem to realize that. He continued to rub his back, continued to smile.

“Ventus, why are you smiling?!” Vanitas asked again and the blond frowned, now confused. He pointed at one of Vanitas’ wounds then gently touched it.

“You’re hurt. I’ll make the pain go away.”

What kind of nonsense was that? What kind of-

“Stop!” Vanitas demanded and his tone seemed to finally be understood by Ven, who widened his eyes at him. “Stop doing this! You’re not helping!”

Ventus stopped. “Oh. I… I’m sorry.”

_ Apologies are of no value to me! _

“That’s all you know how to say, isn’t it? It’s been months and that’s still all you can say!”

Vanitas pushed him back and walked to the window, tried to breathe deep again but that made his lungs hurt.

“While I have to go down there and fight… All you do is stay here and wait. For nothing!”

Ventus didn’t move, but his expression clearly had changed. He held one of his hands open in front of himself, unsure of what to do. He wanted to help, that was all he wanted. But Vanitas couldn’t be helped. Not now. Not like this.

“The Master says… He says he’ll wait until you’re ready! But he didn’t wait for me to be ready! He just… Took me away from you and forced me to fight! He won’t tell me why, won’t explain anything, all he does is tell me I need to get strong! But why? Why do I need to get strong?”

“I… Don’t know, Vani.”

“Of course you don’t!” Vanitas screamed and Ventus stepped back, scared. “You don’t know anything! Not about how I feel, not about what he makes me go through!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Vani!”

“I thought you’d get better and help me but you can’t! You can’t because you’re useless! Because you’re pathetic!”

Void Gear came to be in Vanitas’ hand and he gripped it hard, every fiber of his being burning with anger, with pain!

“I’ll make the pain go away!” Ventus exclaimed in an apologizing tone, his voice breaking.

“If you went there and fought with me I bet you’d lose in a second. And then the Master would see how strong I am! Because unlike you I’ve been trying! I’ve been  _ trying _ , Ven!”

He didn’t know what came over him but the next thing he saw was Ventus on the floor, blood oozing from a deep and long cut on his face. The sight didn’t stop Vanitas, it only fueled him. He raised Void Gear again, his arms shaking with the weight but mostly with an urgent need to let it all out. His frustration. His hatred! 

He could never do that with Xehanort. All he got in return was more pain. But Ventus…

Ventus couldn't do anything.

"If only you weren't so useless, then I might have a chance!" He screamed and kicked the other boy's body. Ventus squirmed and covered his head with his hands. “I could stay here while you went outside and was beaten against your will! Then you would understand! But not the Master, he doesn’t think you’re  _ ready _ . Well, I’m not ready either!"

“I’m sorry!!” Ventus cried. “I’m sorry, Vani!”

“Sorry for what? You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, do you?! You don’t know a thing!”

Void Gear moved swiftly, over and over again, crashing down against the other child’s body, cutting and bruising. Vanitas couldn’t see much, couldn’t understand much as his agony took over him like he was a puppet, a puppet to his unstable, fledgling emotions. He continued to shout, to attack, to scream at Ventus to  _ stand up and fight _ , but Ventus didn’t. Was that how Xehanort felt? He understood it now; it was frustrating, to wait and wait for someone to do as they are told and then-

“I-It hurts…”

Ventus’ voice died off, turned into low, unsteady hiccups. He trembled, still hiding his face with his hands although the blood from the wound had stained his fingers. That was when Vanitas stopped and realized what he had done.

He looked down at Void Gear’s blade then back at the only one who’d made him feel better, even if a little, for the past months. To his Light, who now cowered in fear of him.

“V… Ven…”

“Hurts… H-hurts, Vani…!”

“I… I’m...”

“I… I just… Make the pain go away, V-Vani..!”

Vanitas was overtaken by panic. He let Void Gear fall to the ground ran out of the room, out of the castle. His heart was pounding and all the pain he’d felt before got worse, mixed up with Ventus’, with his own growing anxiety. What had he done?

_ I’ll take the pain away. _

What had he done??

Vanitas had nowhere to go. All he wanted was to stay away from Ventus, to look away from his deed. But how could he… 

How could he if he could feel Ventus’ pain as if it was his own?

He reached the Keyblade Graveyard unsure of how. His head felt about to explode and his heart like it would stop at any moment. Vanitas looked around himself, to the thousands and thousands of Keyblades left behind by their wielders, and wondered if they were watching over him now. Judging him. Or questioning who or what exactly he was.

His last thought before passing out was of Ventus’ smile when he got up. Then his vision went black and he collapsed.

* * *

Vanitas opened his eyes many hours later by himself, the sun above him. He spat the sand that had got into his mouth and got up, falling in the process, but still making it. His head was spinning and his throat was dry but something stood up. An overwhelming feeling of emptiness in his heart.

He slowly made his way back to the castle. It was way past time for his training now, and he knew he’d pay for that on the next day, but right now he just wanted to go home. His home. Ventus.

Ventus!

Vanitas gasped, remembered what had happened. And he ran, ran as fast as he managed to, back to the castle, back to their room-

“Vanitas.”

Xehanort stood before the door. Vanitas stopped.

“M… Master-!”

“What have you done?”

_ What have I done _ , he thought and tried to see behind Xehanort, tried to see Ventus but he was out of sight. Xehanort stared at him.

“We need Ventus alive. You need Ventus alive. Don’t you understand that?”

“I- I was… Angry, I was-”

Xehanort slapped him on his face. “That’s not an excuse. You are not allowed to lose control, you must be better than that.”

“Is Ven okay??”

“I’ll let you see to that yourself.” 

Vanitas didn’t wait for him to move; he threw himself into the room, looked around to see where Ventus was. He teared up when he saw the dry blood on the floor and lost his breath when he saw Ventus sitting on the bed.

“V… Ven...”

His eyes seemed empty, just like before he’d started speaking again, but there was something more to them. His face had a long, half-open wound, his arms and neck were bruised and his eyes were swollen from being hit but also from crying. There were small cuts on his fingers and his clothes were dirty from laying on the floor for hours.

His eyes seemed empty, but Vanitas could see they were covered with fear and sadness.

“... Ven...” Vanitas approached the bed and Ventus looked up at him, faster than he usually did, slower than he could, hesitating. “Ven, I...”

“... It hurts...”

Ventus’s voice was shaky and he avoided Vanitas’ gaze, confused as to whether he should face him or not. Vanitas approached him more and touched his arm as gently as he could, but Ventus pulled away and teared up.

“I’m sorry… It hurts… It hurts, V-Vani...”

Vanitas teared up himself and looked back to Xehanort but found out he had already left. It was just the two of them now, as it should be. But not like this, never like this.

“V-Ven, I didn’t mean to-”

“Not useless… Not… Not useless...”

Ventus looked up at his broken half. Looked directly to his chest, to his heart.

“... N-Not pretty...”

The little boy broke down crying but kept trying to hold it in. He didn’t want to make a sound, didn’t want to bother. Didn’t want to be hit again. He just wanted to make the pain go away. Just make the pain go away.

“Cold… It’s cold...”

Vanitas did not try to hold anything back. He felt terrible. He felt like a monster. Felt like his Master and saw himself in Ventus who just wanted to be treated nicely and with care. He dried his tears with the back of his hands. 

“Ven, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… It’s not your fault.”

He sat on the bed, watched Ventus moved away with heartache. He took a deep breath and reached for the blond again, touched his arm.

“I… I’m just… I’m t-tired, Ven...”

Everything felt cold. The room, the bed. Ventus. Himself. Like Light had just been erased or somehow turned off. Vanitas wasn’t aware of how much time they stood this way, both hurting, close but still so far away. He only recovered his sense of time, of being, when he felt Ventus hold his hand.

“... Darkness.” Ventus whispered, weak. “Half of me.”

Vanitas closed his mouth, his urge to run away again settling down. How could Ventus be so pure? Even after being hurt like this, how could he be so innocent? So…

“Half of you.” Vanitas nodded. “Like you, Light. Half of the mine.”

“Half of mine…”

Ventus sniffled and lay down, pulled his blanket up to cover him up to his neck. Vanitas did nothing, supposing Ventus wanted to be alone, but Ven gestured for him to lay down too.

“... Half of mine...”

It wasn’t a warm night. Even being so close, it just didn’t feel the same. Vanitas held on to Ventus, hoping that sick feeling in the depths of his stomach would go away, but they didn’t. Ventus held on to Vanitas, hoping that by easing his friends’ pain he could ease his own too.

* * *

A few more days went by before Xehanort decided it was better to take Ventus away.

Vanitas didn’t complain about it, not out loud. Not after he’d lost control again and screamed at Ventus. Not after Ventus once again pulled away from him in fear. But the truth was that he didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want his only solace, his only friend to leave him.

“Will he be okay?” Vanitas asked.

“He’ll be away from you. Of course he will.”

When Ventus got up that morning, Xehanort made sure he felt as good as possible. He cast healing spells on him, cleaned his clothing, and helped him eat before walking with him outside. His eyes looked even more empty than before. Vanitas couldn’t help but blame himself for it.

“We are leaving now. Tomorrow your training shall continue, Vanitas.”

“Yes, Master.” The boy said and looked at the blond. He imagined Ventus would be happy to leave, to go somewhere safer. But he stopped on his tracks and, as if finally realizing what was happening, looked back at him.

“Vani?”

“Vanitas is not coming with us.” Xehanort said. Ventus looked up at him and then back at the other.

“But… Vani.”

Vanitas closed his fingers into fists, trying not to give in to his emotions. It was better like this. The harsher his training got, the worse his presence would be to Ven. And yet…

And yet…

“I don’t want to go.” Ventus said, walking back to Vanitas and holding him by his arm. Vanitas frowned at him, not believing what he was saying.

“You have no choice.” Xehanort groaned despite being surprised as well. “I’ll take you somewhere else and when you recover you won’t even remember what happened here. Now come.”

“No!” Ventus hid behind Vanitas. “Vani… I don’t want to go!”

“Vanitas.” Xehanort spoke. “Tell him.”

“... Ven, you have to go.”

Ventus looked as if he’d been torn apart again. He stared at the raven, tears gathering in his eyes, but all Vanitas did was to say it again.

“Ven, you have to go. For your safety.” He said then whispered. “... and mine.”

“But, Vani-”

“I said you have to go!” 

Vanitas pushed Ventus away and stared angry at him, hoping to scare him off. He felt it, however, that Ventus didn't feel scared.

"Just... Leave me alone! Obey the Master's orders and leave!"

The blond held his hands to his chest, disheartened. He kept looking at Vanitas, at the only one he had had until now. Waiting for him to do something, to say he didn't want him to go either.

But Vanitas didn't say anything. Instead, he turned his back to the boy and walked away.

"Now... Follow me, Ventus."

Vanitas heard Ventus' hesitant steps sounding farther and farther away from him. He heard Xehanort talk to him and explain to him where they were going. He heard everything and regretted not being close enough when Ventus called for him one last time.

"Vani!"

Vanitas looked at him. Ventus smiled sadly.

"Your heart... Pretty."

And then disappeared alongside his Master, on his way to the Land of Departure. 

* * *

Vanitas hadn't stopped crying ever since Ventus left. Every night he'd lay on the bed they used to share and hugged the extra pillow he now had. But it was not enough. It was not enough and it would never be enough.

_ Why didn't I go after him? _

It was cold. Even being so far away, Ventus' feelings and emotions ended up with him, in his heart. Vanitas could feel him recovering, could feel him forgetting everything that had happened so far.

He felt Ventus being loved. He felt Ventus being cared for. He felt so many good emotions, but none of them was directed to him.

The little boy buried his face on Ventus' old pillow and cried. He'd do anything to go back and change what he'd done. He'd do anything to have Ventus back.

He'd do anything to have his warmth again.


End file.
